Choose Love

 

St. Peter’s Episcopal Church, Cambridge, MA

The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling

“Hate can be a deeply stimulating emotion. The world becomes much easier to understand and much less terrifying if you divide everything and everyone into friends and enemies, we and they, good and evil. The easiest way to unite a group isn’t through love, because love is hard. It makes demands. Hate is simple.” Beartown by Frederik Backman

After reading today’s lesson from Deuteronomy, I can’t help but think about the current situation in Israel. Moses has led his followers out of slavery in Egypt, wandering through the wilderness for 40 years, and is now on the cusp of entering into the land that they believe God had promised to them. This land is a place for them to worship their God without fear, free from the shackles of oppression and hard labor. This gift from God was not without expectations for their behavior however. Indeed, God told Moses that, because of his own behavior, he would die before he could enter the promised land.

Moses told his followers that they had a choice. They can choose life by “loving the Lord your God, walking in his ways, and observing his commandments, decrees, and ordinances, and the Lord your God will bless you in the land that you are entering to possess.” If you don't, that is “if your heart turns away, but are led astray to bow down to other gods and serve them, I declare to you today that you shall perish; you shall not live long in the land that you are crossing the Jordan to enter and possess.” There is a cost for choosing to remain faithful to God who promised us this land, Moses told his people.

Now, last week I mentioned the five core values that have been identified in the recent visioning process in our diocese. They are Welcome, Courage, Justice, Joy, and Love; and while last week I talked about welcome, this week, I am focusing on courage and love.

Recently, in Minneapolis, we heard of the horrific crime of a young person who killed 2 innocent children and injured 18 others as they prayed in a Roman Catholic Church before their school year began. Based upon reports of his written materials, this shooter’s core value was hate, having no love for anyone or anything, including himself. On one gun he had written, “Where is your God?”

The responses of politicians and religious leaders were immediate. Initially, the mayor of Minneapolis dismissed the call for people to offer their “thoughts and prayers” arguing that it was a time to take action. The Bishop of Minneapolis, Bishop Barron, insisted that it was an especially appropriate time for prayers. Indeed, courage is fear that has said their prayers. And, I would argue that praying is actually one form of taking action.

Violence and hate crimes take many forms. This bishop said, “"In the past seven years in our country, there has been a 700% increase in violent acts against Christians and Christian churches. Worldwide, Christianity is by far the most persecuted religion. That people are even wondering whether the tragedy in Minneapolis is an instance of anti-Catholic violence is puzzling to me," he said.

"If someone attacked a synagogue while congregants were praying, would anyone doubt that it was an antisemitic act?” he continued. “If someone shot up a mosque while the devout were praying, would anyone doubt that it was an anti-Islamic attack? So, why would we even hesitate to say that a maniac shooting into a Catholic Church while children are at prayer was committing an anti-Catholic act?" he concluded.  In some ways, I think that it takes “courage” to identify yourself as a person of any faith tradition these days.

Most religious traditions claim that their number one core value is love. God promised the land to the Hebrew people as a gift of love. In the gospel stories, the first two commandments are all about love: Love God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength, and love your neighbor as yourself. And Jesus was known for incarnating the Way of Love. Love others as I have loved you, He said to his disciples. 

As reports continue about this tragedy in Minneapolis, it has become clear that the shooter was filled with hate. He hated all sorts of people, faiths, and groups and the only love this person professed to have was for people who killed children. When love despairs it becomes hate; and this hate-filled loathing is not only for other people but also for one’s self. It is an emotion that chooses death over life, curses over blessings. It is a passion that consumes life rather than creates it.

Conversely, his victims were filled with love. They loved God, those in their church, their teachers and priests, their friends and their families. Young and old alike, protecting others during the shooting, they revealed sacrificial love at their own expense. Prayers for the 12 year-old who remains in critical condition have been offered around the world. I think courage is a matter of the heart; it takes courage to love God, neighbor, and self in today’s world. 

Now I often argue that the opposite of love is not hate but rather indifference. Indifference is a mere shrug of the shoulders. Indifference doesn’t care that innocent and vulnerable children were killed. Indifference doesn’t care when people are injured in wars and when cities, homes, and buildings are destroyed. Indifference doesn't care. It is cold blooded; it is a lack of compassion for human life and creation. Indifference doesn’t even have the energy for hate. 

In his article, ‘Jesus Makes it Hard to be a Christian’ Gary Percesepe wrote, “There’s a difference between volunteerism and true discipleship, making it essential for one to count the cost. Jesus makes plain that he has set his face toward Jerusalem, where violence, betrayal, and death await. He warns all hasty volunteers that it is not a festive parade they are joining.” (end quote) (Xian Century, Sept 2025)

Here in this country, we are free to worship God and share God’s love with others. We are free to believe in one God, many gods, or no god. Sadly we are free to choose life and death; we are free to offer curses and blessings. We are free to hate or love anyone and anything. And yet, as Frederik Backman wrote in his novel Beartown, “Love is hard. It makes demands. Hate is simple.” 

It takes courage to love.

There is a cost to choosing to follow me, Jesus told his followers. "Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself, cannot be my disciple,” He said. 

Now Barbara Brown Taylor in her sermon entitled ‘High Priced Discipleship’ asks, “Why does Jesus say all these disturbing things about hating their parents, their children, and their lives? One possibility is that he was using a figure of speech we do not use anymore. In his day, the way you stated a preference for something was by pairing two things and saying you loved one thing and hated the other,” she wrote.

She continued, “It did not have anything to do with emotions. It was a matter of priorities, so if I said, ‘I love the mountains and hate the beach’, it would not actually mean I felt hostile toward the ocean, but simply means that the mountains were my first choice.” (Bread of Angels, pp48) To love God, ourselves and our neighbors, or to love as Jesus loves us, is to say that is my first choice. It is to say that I choose life over death, love over hate, blessings over curses, peace over war. 

I find it funny that Barbara Brown Taylor claims that Jesus would not have made a good parish minister. Why? Because she says that “so much of the job depends upon making it easy for people to come to church and rewarding for them to stay. A good parish minister will work hard to make sure that worship is satisfying, that Christian education is appealing, and that plenty of opportunities for fellowship and service exist.” (pp46) (End quote)

And yet, Jesus wasn’t the local rabbi in his hometown synagogue. Rather he was an itinerant preacher and teacher, kind of like me as a supply priest, who can say certain things, and then move on, leaving the fall-out to be handled by your rector when he returns next week! According to our gospel stories, the people in the hometown synagogue of Jesus wanted to throw him off a cliff!

So the bottom line for me? We have choices as to how we live our lives. And I would argue that while the cost of discipleship may be high, the cost of courage and love are even higher. And yet the rewards are both priceless and eternal. Today, listen to Moses; listen to Jesus, and follow them to the Promised Land. Be of good courage and choose love.

Deuteronomy 30:15-20 Luke 14:25-33

All Are Welcome?

 

St. Peter’s Episcopal Church, Cambridge, MA            The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling 

Just this month, our Bishop shared with members of the Diocese of Massachusetts the work that we have been doing over this past year regarding our new core values, mission statement, and the strategic priorities for the Episcopal Diocese of Massachusetts. According to the Bishop, our hope is that these values and priorities will guide us in our life together for the next several years to come. Today I want to focus on our five core values. They are: Welcome, Courage, Justice, Joy, and Love; and I’d like to focus most specifically on the core value of Welcome.

Many years ago, one of the hot topics in our church was encouraging the practice of radical hospitality. In his sermon last week, the Rev. Dan Bell mentioned that he had recently learned a new word called “Sonder.” It is defined as realizing that every other individual has a life as full and real as one’s own. It can also be described as the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own.” (John Koenig, Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows.)

Put another way, according to St. Benedict’s Way of Love, radical hospitality “means you’re open to the gift of discovering what any person has to offer no matter who they are.” (Radical Hospitality, Benedict’s Way of Love.) Or as Brother David, one of the monks affiliated with the Society of St. John the Evangelist, has said, we can only know another individual as the tip of an iceberg. So much of our lives and stories, our thoughts and experiences, lie beneath the surface, unknown to others, perhaps even to ourselves!

 Why would our church place such importance on radical hospitality? Why would our diocese recently name welcome as one of our core values? Well, because Jesus did!

In Luke’s gospel today, Jesus specifically talks about what it means to be a guest in someone’s house. And here we are today, gathered in God’s house which we call St. Peter’s, and at today’s Eucharistic feast, we are all invited to be Christ’s guests at His Table. Everyone is invited. Indeed on your website you say to expect A Radical Welcome at St. Peter’s!

What do we mean by “a radical welcome?” Your website claims that Saint Peter’s “welcomes the voices, presence, and power of all people, including those who have been defined as The Other, pushed to the margins, or silenced.” You say that “We will welcome you if you are ready to walk the path of Christ in fellowship with others; if you are struggling to find your way forward; or if you need a quiet place in which to pray. At Saint Peter’s, there is room for everyone at God’s table.” Everyone?

Remember that oft repeated marketing line that hangs from church banners or appears on our church websites? “All are Welcome!” we proudly proclaim. Now I have a friend who lives in Minnesota and often makes fun of that claim. He says, “Do you really think churches would welcome a violent and criminal predator to join them without practicing safe church guidelines? Do you really think that anyone would welcome a stranger at their church door who is masked and holding a gun in their hands? Would you welcome a young man carrying three guns who appears at your church ready to kill the children who are praying inside during mass?”

 Because of its dwindling numbers of parishioners and its desire to address a social need within their community, a church in Somerville decided last year to convert its church into a homeless shelter. Partnering with the Somerville Homeless Coalition, they created everything needed for a shelter for the homeless people in their neighborhood, with a sign that said, “All Are Welcome Here.”

Unfortunately or fortunately, depending upon your perspective, the neighbors have taken them to court, arguing that it is against the law to create this shelter in their neighborhood. Pointing to NIMBY, “Not in My Back Yard”, the church members are pushing forward to open this shelter. Why would you complain about certain problems if you’re not willing to find and create solutions for them, they argue? Pointing to increased drug use, petty and violent crimes, and more litter on their streets, opponents offer their own rebuttals.

How often have you been excluded from a conversation or a gathering because you seemed to be the wrong age, the wrong skin color, or wearing the wrong clothes? How often have you been avoided just because you’re new and different from the people who know each other already? How often have you felt a cold shoulder rather than a warm welcome because of one thing or another?

Over the years I’ve learned variations of the word “radical.” Unfortunately it is a word that is often misused or misunderstood. Politically, we group people into far right and far left camps and we call them radical. We claim that certain politicians are so radical that they would destroy our country if elected into office. Judging books by their covers we consider certain lifestyle choices as being radical. In fact, blue hair and tattoos belong to the young and old alike. And if human nature isn’t radical enough, how about Mother Nature and the radical changes we see in our climate?

I learned that the root meaning of radical invites us to dig deeper. Indeed radical means just that….to be radical is to go to the root of something or someone. It is a way of going beyond surface manifestations, beyond the tips of our icebergs, and ‘digging’ deep into the core of something or someone. It means practicing “sonder”, which means seeing individuals just as they are, with so much more of their lives and stories hidden beneath the surface.

Jesus was someone who practiced radical hospitality and He practiced it by moving beyond the confines of his own religious upbringing. While the author of Hebrews wrote: "Remember your leaders, and imitate their faith”, last week Jesus called them “hypocrites.” Jesus wasn’t afraid to speak truth to power; and yet Jesus incarnated God’s radical love and encouraged us to love God as God loves each and every one of us. To love others even though it involves risks. How do we do that?

The letter to the Hebrews offers us multiple suggestions. Here are five from today’s lesson:

1.     Let your mutual love continue between you and God and between you and your neighbor. We can love others, and indeed even ourselves, because God loves us first and Jesus showed us the Way. Mutuality implies giving and receiving.

2.     Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers. If you don’t know someone here, introduce yourself. If you see someone alone or struggling, offer a word of kindness, or a look of understanding. Offer to help. Speak up; if you see something, say something.  Being radical means taking risks, and stepping out of our comfort zones for good reasons.

3.     There are many hot topics for debate and discussion these days, like immigration, gun violence and wars, gender identity, and economic challenges. It can be tempting to stay on the surface or remain within our favorite echo-chambers, and therefore avoid those difficult conversations. We often maintain our superficiality and don’t dig deeper with radical courage, engaging others with respectful dialogue, or maybe even challenging our own perspectives.

4.     “Keep your lives free from the love of money.” Soon we’ll find ourselves in the thick of our stewardship season followed by our end of year financial planning. Quickly we may remind ourselves that money isn’t necessarily bad, it’s just the love of it that causes us so much trouble.

5.     And that easily leads me into the 5th example offered in the letter to the Hebrews. “Be content with what you have.”

Today, we can only live one day at a time, trusting that Jesus is “the same, yesterday, today and forever” as the author of Hebrews attests. We are all welcome for a meal in God’s house with Jesus as our gracious and radical host. We are all invited to share places of honor, each and every one of us, at His Table. Praising God, from whom all our blessings flow, we are then empowered to be radical agents of Christ’s love, “doing good, sharing what we have, and confessing His name.” Amen.

Hebrews 13:1-8, 15-16                         Luke 14:1, 7-14

 

 

 

 

A Consuming Fire

 Christ Episcopal Church, Needham, Massachusetts            The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling 

             Come Holy Spirit and kindle in us the fire of your love. Amen.

             Somewhere, I seemed to have taken a turn, and to be honest with you, I’m not sure why. I used to read only books that had happy endings, little violence, and some sort of spiritual message. I think my change in reading habits all began with a colleague’s recommendation for a murder mystery, the latest in a series by Louise Penny. That first book led to another book until all 20 books had been consumed by me in short order. Like potato chips or french fries, I couldn’t stop after consuming only one.

            Perhaps I was comforted by the fact that the primary detective in these murder mysteries was a decent and good man. He actually felt called to this particular vocation and, unlike some of his colleagues, he was someone who could see the possibilities in other people. He was willing to take a risk by adding people to his team who had been short-changed, wounded, or ignored by their families and/or co-workers. Conversely, he wasn’t afraid to uncover immoral, powerful people in his own organization. This detective was a boss who gave people a great deal of trust; and these people often responded to him with deep loyalty.

          My enjoyment of these murder mystery series began to spill over into real life events. I started listening to the details of horrific crimes, ones I used to avoid like the plague. Most recently I was horrified by the murders of four university students in Idaho over 3 years ago. The trial finally came to a conclusion last month after a plea deal was agreed upon. The murderer would avoid the death penalty but he would serve 4 consecutive life sentences in prison with presumably no chance of parole.

          There was a great deal of back and forth about the plea deal. A family member of one of the deceased students claimed she had already forgiven him, while another family member described him as “pure evil” and hoped he would burn in hell. Some people felt this murderer deserved the death penalty and nothing less. Others were concerned that after many years of “good service” in prison, he might eventually be released; and yet he would be tormented by fellow inmates beginning on day one. So what was justice in this set of circumstances? And what about the issue of judgment by us? Or by God? I wondered.

          Justice and judgment are often conjoined. The definition of justice in its broadest sense is the idea that individuals should be treated fairly, and assumes that the administration of the law will maintain justice. Similarly, the definition of judgment means the ability to make considered decisions, come to sensible conclusions, and may involve the decision of the court or a judge. (Wikipedia)

          Now according to Bible Hub, “Judgment, in the biblical context, refers to the divine evaluation and decision-making process concerning human actions, thoughts, and intentions. It encompasses both temporal judgments, which occur within history, and eschatological judgments, which pertain to the end times, reflecting God's holiness, justice, and sovereignty.” Today’s New Testament passage from Hebrews refers to God as the judge of all.

          At a very young age most of us learn that there are consequences for our words and actions. Now God’s judgment includes both justice and mercy; and it seems to me that if you don’t believe in the justice and judgment of God, then why not “eat, drink, and be merry?” Why not do whatever we want regardless of the effects on other human beings? And yet, in reality, we all fall short; we all sin; we all plead for mercy before the judgment seat of God.

While you may not identify yourself with a murderer, there are different kinds of sin. “Racism or any other kind of “ism”, greed, false teaching, misuse of wealth, and degrading words to a fellow human being—are these things that damn people to hell? According to Scripture, and the authors of the book Erasing Hell, the answer is yes.” (Erasing Hell, Francis Chan and Preston Sprinkle) 

Scriptural literalists will point to passages that claim “unless you believe this” or “unless you do that” you will not be saved. It’s known as the “turn or burn” theology. Unfortunately, scripture passages vary widely; one section will claim that everyone will be saved by God’s grace and mercy, while other passages say that God’s consuming fire will be the final judgment for our lack of faith and our deplorable actions.

What are we to do, you might wonder? A Sunday School teacher was questioning her class of 1st graders about salvation and began by saying, “If I give up all my money, give everything I have to the church, and to the poor and needy of the world, will I get into heaven?” “NO,” says the class. “How about if I teach Sunday school; serve on the vestry; visit nursing homes and hospitals; and feed the hungry with good food, will I get into heaven then?” “NO,” says the class. “OK, how about if I go to seminary, and become the rector of Christ Episcopal Church in Needham, surely then I will get into heaven?” For the third time, the class of 1st graders yell, “NO!

“All right,” the teacher says, thinking that these kids are smarter than she realized, “Then how do I get into heaven?” she asked. And the little girl in the back of the room yells, “YOU GOTTA BE DEAD!”

By now you may be wondering why I’ve taken you down this difficult journey of reflection about sin and death, about judgment and justice, but I tend to be an “end-game”, mission-focused kind of person. Indeed, “Christians should think seriously about salvation, judgment and life after death,” argued Paul Dafyydd Jones in A Hopeful Universalism. “While we mustn’t ever lose sight of God’s grace, we are obliged also to acknowledge the gravity of sin. We cannot suppose that God overlooks or condones our myriad failings. Just as sin matters in human life, sin matters to God. It is the very reason that God’s saving grace passes through the horror of Calvary,” he continued. ( A Hopeful Universalism, Paul Dayffd Jones, Xian Century, June 27, 2012)

The author of the letter to the Hebrews refers to God as a consuming fire. Unlike the devastating fires that are repeatedly reported in our news, or the blazing fires of hell, I like to think of God’s fire as an eternal flame like the one that appeared in the burning bush, a fire that did not consume Moses or indeed even the bush. It is a fire that kills sins but not the sinners. It is a fire that mercifully burns off the dross of our sins, revealing the pure gold of our creation. It is a fire that reveals the passionate love of God that seeks to restore a kingdom that can never be shaken; indeed that can never be burned to the ground.

Jesus’ fiery messages throughout the gospels were not just about destruction and division, as we heard last week. No, God’s fire is also a purifying flame, naturally cleaning up our messes, warming our souls, shedding light in times of darkness, empowering us for loving action, delighting us with joyful campfires, and bringing new life into the world. Indeed, the final judgment of the cross revealed resurrection life in a blaze of divine glory on Easter morning!

William H. Willimon entitled his book “Who Will Be Saved?”

Indeed, who will be saved? By whom? How? When and Why? While these questions remain far above my pay grade, I offer them to you this morning, not with clear answers, but with an invitation for your further reflection, questions, and conversation.

However, I do believe that God’s judgment of humanity was revealed in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus and that justice was served by the mercy of God. In effect, Jesus made a plea deal with God on our behalf in which we did not receive a death sentence but rather a commuted life sentence in God’s eternal home.

Perhaps I was comforted by the fact that in Luke’s gospel the primary detective was a decent and good man named Jesus. Like Louise Penny’s detective, He felt called to this particular vocation and was faithful to that mission to the very end. Unlike some of his colleagues, He healed and set people free, offering mercy and second chances to his followers; and these people often responded with deep loyalty.

Therefore, as the author of Hebrews once wrote, “since we are receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, let us give thanks, by which we offer to God an acceptable worship with reverence and awe.” (Hebrews 12:29) Amen.

 Hebrews 12:18-29                     Luke 13:10-17

 

 

 

 

 

 

           

 

Hosea

 Grace Episcopal Church, Newton    The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling    Hosea 1:2-10    Luke 11:1-13

            I must confess to you that I am particularly fond of the prophets. Hosea was one of the minor prophets living in his hometown in the northern kingdom of Israel around 750 BC. At that time, the country was divided into two kingdoms; the northern one was called Israel, and the southern one was called Judah. Both kingdoms were ruled by various kings; and their people often resorted to a culture of violence and social upheaval as they “anxiously searched for kings and allies who would save them from the dangers that threatened their national existence.” (HCSB, 1329-30)

Hosea accused his people of being unfaithful in both their religious and political lives. They did not trust God and began to worship any cultural god that promised them prosperity, good weather, and fertility. (HCSB intro) They forgot about their God who had liberated them from slavery and replaced their God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob with the worship of local deities or their royal rulers.

Living in a country of virtual anarchy, the Israelites saw four of their kings assassinated within 14 years. After a foreign invasion by Assyria (current day Iran), they were ruled by the king in Assyria. Imagine Hosea living in Ukraine today. Imagine Hosea living in Israel or Gaza today. Imagine Hosea living in our own country during the Civil War, or maybe even today. Would Hosea accuse us of being unfaithful in our religious and political lives? Would Hosea accuse us of looking for a cultural god or a human ruler to be our savior?

They say a picture is worth a thousand words; and so Hosea used the metaphor of whoredom, portraying God as the aggrieved husband of a faithless wife. He believed that God had told him to marry a prostitute named Gomer. “So Hosea, being a faithful man, did as he was told,” wrote Barbara Brown Taylor. “He went down to the local brothel and asked to meet some of the women who worked there.” (Gospel Medicine, pp55-62)

“The madam was glad to oblige him, thinking she was about to get herself a new customer, but when Hosea proposed to Gomer right there in the perfumed parlor and Gomer said yes, the madam threw them both out onto the street. (Back at home with Hosea) Gomer bore three children in short order - two boys and a girl.” (Gospel Medicine)

 It was God who told Hosea to name his children. The oldest boy was called Jezreel, which was the name of the town where God had promised to put an end to Israel. The middle child, who was a girl, was named Not Pitied, because God was saying that God would no longer have pity on them nor forgive them. Finally, the baby boy got the worst name of all: Not My People because God would no longer be their God. (Hosea 1:2-11)

While Gomer spent nights away from her family with multiple partners, Hosea remained at home, faithfully cooking and cleaning, and waiting for his unfaithful wife to come home. “Look, this is who you are,” Hosea told the Israelites. “You are whores and adulterers, infidels who have broken your covenant with God. And God is angry, roaring like a lion, begging for God’s people to come home.” (Hosea 11)

Prophets are known to turn up the heat in the lives of God’s people. They are known for presumably speaking the truth to power, in faithful obedience to God’s call, no matter the cost to their personal lives. A prophet will describe the realities of what he or she sees going on in the people’s lives and encourage people to change their behavior. Like people who stand at various parts of an elephant, prophets will see our world, our problems, and our solutions differently, and yet they still point to the elephant in the room! Unfortunately, the Israelites had repeatedly broken their promises to God, and Hosea, among other major and minor prophets, was now calling them out.

 Infidelity never starts with the physical aspects of love. We stop going to our meetings, our churches, our synagogues, or our mosques. We start listening to the wrong voices and believe in the wrong things. Our spirits start moving away from God, and our God-centered world slowly becomes a self-centered world. Even in theocracies and democracies too much ego means “easing God out" of our lives. We become haters rather than lovers. We think violence is the answer; and we forget that diplomacy involves persistence.

Our minds wander; and we begin to think we’ve made a mistake, or that “they” are a mistake. There must be a better partner, a more powerful king, a wiser president, a more pure and perfect union or nation, who can save us from ourselves and be the answer to all our problems.

“Apparently, Gomer didn’t change her ways after leaving the brothel and marrying Hosea. Time and time again she would leave the house and go to other lovers who would make promises they couldn’t keep. Then knowing the character of her husband, she would return home to him, sorry and promising him that she would never be unfaithful to him again.” (Gospel Medicine)  Like people caught in the grip of an addiction, she couldn’t stay clean for very long before her old behaviors crept back in. It was as if the Israelites had begun going to the local bar looking for spirits rather than staying in their Temple and remaining faithful to the Spirit of God. 

“It had happened over and over again, until Gomer’s heart was running on empty. He had entered into a covenant with her. He had promised himself to her forever and it was a promise he meant to keep. What would it take, to get her attention, to change her ways? Should he shake her until she came to her senses? Should he lock her in her room? Or should he divorce her and send her packing, before she had the chance to shame him again?” asked Barbara Brown Taylor (Gospel Medicine pp 56-7)

Hosea didn’t wallow in the  self-pity of victimhood, however; nor did he succumb to the temptation of domestic violence. Hosea went after Gomer not to stalk her, or kill her, beat her or shame her, but rather Hosea brought her back into his life to forgive her and love her once again. Grace may be free but it’s not cheap.

Hosea claimed that God is different from our political and religious leaders. Indeed, God is different from all of humanity, different from every single one of us; for God is a god of divine compassion, forgiveness, and unrelenting mercy. God will never let us go, despite our infidelity; for our God is eternally faithful to God’s covenant, even to the point of death upon the cross.

At the heart of Hosea’s preaching is a gospel message of redeeming love. No matter what we do or what we have done, God will never forsake us nor abandon us. In the end, God will not only seek us out in all the wrong places but also bring us home and restore us to new life.

Hosea reminded the Israelites of what God had done for them. “I have been the Lord your God ever since the land of Egypt; you know no God but me and besides me there is no savior.” (Hosea 13.4) Fortunately for us God’s love is stubborn, persistent, and faithful, like the friend who bangs on our door in the middle of the night asking for some loaves of bread. Ask, search, knock and God will give us good things, St. Luke had proclaimed.

According to Hosea, God seals the covenant once again when God changes the names of Gomer’s children. Jezreel shall no longer mean the place of destruction. It shall mean ‘God sows.’ Henceforth, Not Pitied shall be known as ‘I will Have Pity’, and Not My People shall become ‘You Are My People, Children of the Living God,’ prophesied Hosea.

Like the Israelites, in times of social, political, and economic instability, we may disavow our trust in the Lord. And yet, Hosea saw beyond the infidelity of the Israelites to the compassion of our God. In the end, he proclaimed that God would restore God’s people through a new covenant.

Centuries after Hosea, God sent God’s people a new prophet, a new priest, and a new king who would govern God’s people and save them; for Jesus stretched out his arms of love on the hard wood of the cross so that everyone might come within the reach of God’s saving embrace. And so today, we pray once again, as Jesus taught us, “Forgive us of our sins, and do not bring us to the time of trial.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Martha and Mary

 

Martha and Mary        The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling             Christ Church Needham

 

But I am like a green olive tree in the house of God; *
I trust in the mercy of God for ever and ever.

Today's gospel passage from Luke reminds me of my family. I have four grandchildren, three of whom live in Minnesota. Peter and Nathaniel are not identical 6 year old twins and they are truly not identical in so many ways. Peter is a mover and shaker who also loves to draw. Nathaniel is quieter, a child who loves to explore God’s creation like a scientist. Spiritually, Peter is an evangelist like St. Luke; Nathaniel is a monk. Meanwhile, their 3 year old sister named Lili has accumulated the traits and behaviors of both of them while maintaining her own unique style and character. She’ll probably run for political office someday!

Martha is like Peter. She is busy in the kitchen with no air conditioning, slaving over a hot stove in the middle of the summer, preparing for a visit from Jesus. Like someone with ADHD, she is distracted by many things. She wants to welcome Jesus into her home and feeding him physically is important to her. Meanwhile, her sister Mary is like Nathaniel. She is sitting on the floor, with a long cool drink in her hand, and listening carefully to what Jesus has to say.

Part of the blessing of the summer days in this part of our country is the abundance of fresh summer fruit that becomes available locally. I always look forward to the ‘east coast strawberries’ that appear in Friends supermarket on Cape Cod. And then there are those tiny little Maine blueberries that seem to have a slightly different flavor than their bigger siblings. Easily popped into my mouth, I let my blender take the summer off from making those mid-winter smoothies.

“This is what the Lord God showed Amos-- a basket of summer fruit. He said, "Amos, what do you see?" And I said, "A basket of summer fruit." Now Amos was an 8th century BC prophet who lived in the northern kingdom of Israel, which was divided from the southern kingdom of Judah. He who was saying that the Lord God showed him this basket before God launched into all the doom and gloom that was about to befall his people. Amos was not painting a very pretty picture for the future of his people. This was not a good news prophecy.

Amos claimed that the end was about to come for the people in the kingdom of Israel. There will be wailings of grief instead of songs of joy in their temple. Dead bodies shall be many. On that day the sun will go down at noon and darken the earth like a full solar eclipse. God will turn their feasts into mourning and there will be famines, droughts, and lamentations throughout the land. It sounds like Israel on October 7 2024 to me.

Apparently, the people in Israel, the northern part of the kingdom at that time, had been busy, like Martha, but busy with all the wrong activities. They had trampled on the needy and brought ruin to the poor in their land. And so, God showed Amos a basket of summer fruit which was about to become like mine when I leave it sitting on the counter in the humid heat for too long. The mold appears. The fruit goes bad; and the garbage disposal becomes its destination.

I find it also interesting that the psalmist in today’s lesson refers to himself like “a green olive tree in the house of God.” Here’s another image taken from creation; and yet in this one the fruit remains on the tree. It has not yet been picked. It’s still green, not yet ripe, and not ready for consumption. And so, I wonder, is Martha like the basket of summer fruit wilting in her busyness, while Mary is like the green olive tree sitting at the foot of Jesus? Is she still connected to the living tree of the Son of God?

 Last week, we heard Jesus tell a parable about the Good Samaritan, the man who was moved by pity to stop and care for a wounded stranger lying on the side of the road. According to the story, neither a priest nor a Levite stopped, but Jesus didn’t tell us why. Now the road to Jericho was known for its robbers, and maybe they thought he was a decoy for those lying in wait. Or maybe, like Martha, they were simply distracted by their “to do” lists.  Too busy with her own life to care for the life of another or to listen to God.

 I imagine Martha walking with her head down, in deep thought about how to provide properly for her guest. Maybe she was looking down at her cell phone for the latest news, or a new recipe, and blind to the needs of those around her. In a rush to get to what she needed to do for her future guest she wasn’t paying attention to the people in her current life.

Was Jesus accusing Martha of being unfaithful, rebuking her for her busyness? What does Jesus mean when he said that her sister Mary had chosen the better part? Like whiplash, the gospel stories from last week and this week encourage us to behave in two very different ways. “So, which is it?” I ask myself. “Am I supposed to “get up and do something” or “sit and listen?”  Am I ripe for picking or am I past my due date? And which, exactly, is the better part?

I must confess that I have a lot of Marthas in our family. As busy beavers, we multitask to get the job done. When Jesus says, “Get up and go,” we can’t get going fast enough, that is, until we begin to feel resentful about the loads that we are carrying without any help. Turning to Jesus, and pointing to a family member, we will say, “Please tell him to get up and help me.’ However, in today’s passage, Jesus doesn’t tell Mary to get up and get going; but rather he tells Martha to come out of the kitchen and sit down. Spend some time with him. “Sit down and listen to me for a little while,” he says to her.

I can relate to both Mary and Martha. When worried and distracted, I am reminded to be like Mary, to sit at the feet of Jesus and listen. When I find myself demanding help from others, or when the kitchen gets too hot, I tell myself to go to another room, sit down for a little while to listen and pray. I turn to the serenity prayer, to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

Initially, people may think that Jesus was saying that Mary is the better disciple, and yet this is not true. Rather Jesus is saying that everyone is called to be his disciple, and our discipleship will take many forms. It is not an either/or engagement - a “pots and pans Martha” versus a “googly-eyed listening Mary.”

Our society and culture, indeed many of our families, will encourage us to stay busy. They say that being “idle” is the devil’s playground. And faith without works is dead. At times, we may even feel unworthy if we aren’t helping the poor and the needy, like good Samaritans. Our value then becomes defined not by who we are, beloved and unique children of God, a big, beautiful basket of summer fruit, but rather by what we do. And when we see people just sitting there, or taking handouts at our own expense, it fuels our resentments.

When our busyness becomes a burden and we start making demands of others, Jesus invites us to sit down for a little while, and listen to the voice of the Spirit. Jesus wants us to know that we are like a basket of summer fruit, diverse, unique, and beautiful in the eyes of God. We are containers that can receive the love of God and the fruits of the Spirit, so that we might also share those gifts with others as good Samaritans.

There is a well known story about a man who seeks advice from a wise man. The tale goes like this: A well-educated, scholarly man approached a Zen Master, seeking the secrets of enlightenment. The man boasted about his extensive knowledge of the scriptures and the many practices he had mastered over the years.

Eager to share his wisdom, the Zen Master offered to serve tea. The Master began pouring tea into the man’s cup, but even after the cup was full, he continued to pour. The tea overflowed, spilling onto the tray, the table, and the floor. The scholar exclaimed, “Master! The cup is full! No more will go in!”

The Zen Master replied, “Like this cup, you are full of your own opinions and speculations. How can I show you Zen unless you first empty your cup?”

Before we get up and go, and be like good Samaritans or like busy Marthas, Jesus invites us to let our cups be filled first. Today, just for a little while, be like Mary. Stay connected to the Tree of Life. Sit down and listen to what the Spirit is saying to you. And then go and do something, even a small act of kindness. Get back in that hot kitchen and be like Martha. And do not worry. Jesus will be with you on your journey.

 Amos 8:1-12        Psalm 52        Colossians 1:15-28        Luke 10:38-42

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Foxhole Companions

Christ Episcopal Church, Needham, Massachusetts            The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling      
Colossians 1:1-14            Luke 10:25-37

          My husband Paul occasionally comments on people. He says, “That’s the type of person you want to have next to you in a foxhole if you find yourself in a battle.” This person is one who will hunker down with you, when you find yourself in a war, surrounded by the enemy, with bombs dropping, sirens wailing, bullets flying, and your life is on the line. Terrified, perhaps even critically wounded, you see no means of escape, and you long desperately for a miracle. You pray that someone would save you from the pain, terror, and what appears to be your imminent death.

          Perhaps wounded, trapped, or just unable to move because of your fear, you are amazed that the person next to you, perhaps your best buddy or a total stranger, maybe even an emergency responder, appears by your side. This person, for whatever reason, has chosen to stay with you, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, until death do you part or at least until the danger passes.

          It is no surprise to me that my husband Paul often uses such language to describe certain people; for when he has been “under fire” in school, at work, or at home (I confess that I can “fire away” with the best of them), he feels as if life is a war. You know what I mean - you envision a long and happy life in one place, one job, one relationship, and suddenly something changes. You send your child off to camp and she never returns. Life is no longer a bed of roses. Your “happy place or person” is gone.

 Perhaps we’ve grown accustomed to our safe little foxholes when the unexpected happens: a new diagnosis, a peaceful protest turns violent, an accident takes a life, a flood causes mortal injuries, and someone we love suddenly dies. We feel violated. We feel like victims. And we look for someone or something to blame.

The effects of our lifelong battles are not always obvious. Worries about money, health, and our family members can drain us just as quickly as any physical wound. Indeed, we don’t need to live in another country to know the reality of violence on our streets or in our homes. And so, we hunker down and isolate ourselves from our own communities. It’s safer, we say to ourselves, to just stay at home.

Jesus was a foxhole person. When the lawyer asked him what he must do to inherit eternal life, Jesus answered in true rabbinic fashion. He asked him a question. “What is written in our law? What do you read there?” Well-educated in his religious upbringing, the lawyer responded correctly with one big, beautiful answer. Obey the first two commandments. That is, love God with every part of your being: your heart, soul, strength, and mind. And while you’re at it, love your neighbor the same way you love yourself.

Sidestepping the obvious challenge about how we actually love God, our selves, and our neighbors the lawyer tested Jesus once again. Like a journalist at a white house press conference, he asked another question. Who is his neighbor? He wanted to know because he wanted to get it right. Or maybe he just wanted to test Jesus with a gotcha kind of question.  Which, to my mind, begs more questions. Who is my neighbor? Is it the person in the pew next to you? The homeless person on the street begging for food, money, or drugs? Is it the political extremist on your far right or far left? Is it anyone who isn’t just like you?

Jesus was asking the lawyer if he would be a good foxhole companion. He wanted to know if he would run away to protect his own life, or would he hunker down, valiantly fighting the enemy of life and love for the sake of others? For the love of God and for the love of country, would he fight for what is right, good, and true? Would she help a stranger while risking her own personal safety, showing up to volunteer in the flood waters of Texas?

That lawyer’s one simple question begs more questions. Will we help those who have been wounded, beaten, and robbed of their human dignity, for their right to live and love as they do? Will we engage in respectful dialogue, honoring the choices of others even if they are different from our own. Will we be brave angels and foxhole companions? Or like the priest and the Levite, will we just walk on by?

As told in an internet joke, a Sunday School teacher was telling the story of the Good Samaritan to her class of 4- and 5-year-olds. She was making it as vivid as possible to keep the children interested in her tale. At one point, she asked the class, "If you saw a person lying on the roadside all wounded and bleeding, what would you do?" A thoughtful little girl broke the hushed silence and said "I think I'd throw up."

Honestly, I would probably avert my gaze, maybe even feign interest in another direction. I might possibly break into a run or do an about face. Maybe I would retreat to a safer place. No good Samaritan here confesses this priest on this Sunday morning in Needham. I might just walk on by.

Perhaps you are aware of the animosity between the Jews and the Samaritans during this time in history. In fact, oftentimes, they would eschew each other’s territories for the sake of their personal safety. Imagine today how a Jewish person might feel living in Iran or Gaza? Or conversely, a Palestinian living in Israel? How might our young people feel about walking on a college campus where anti-semitic words and actions are prevalent? Where protests or simple large gatherings of people can turn dangerous?

The point of Jesus’ parable about the Good Samaritan is pointing not only to the reality of our human choices, when faced with the people we hate or fear, but Jesus also wanted to redirect our vision to God. If we are to love God, our neighbors, and ourselves, indeed even our enemies, then we will not only fight for justice, but we will also show mercy. There is a wideness to God’s mercy that is often beyond our human reach when we are faced with war and hate, when we are faced with political vitriol and violence.

In Ladder to the Light, Steven Charleston writes about a vision he once had:

I saw an older man standing alone by the side of the road. He kept looking down that road as if he was expecting a bus, but no bus stopped there. When I mentioned that to him, he said that he was not waiting for a bus. He was waiting for a parade. He had heard that if you wait long enough, the parade would come back down your street. He had missed it before, and he did not want to miss it again. I looked at him. He was different from me. Different color. Different religion. He looked a little grubby and he had an accent, but I decided it didn’t matter. He was a person. I was a person. He needed a parade. I needed a parade. He had hope. I had hope. So, I waited beside him, looking down the street in the same direction; and the minute I did, we both heard music in the distance.” (Xian Century, July 2025, p24)

As they say in the trenches, there are no atheists in the foxholes. As Christians we can claim that Jesus is in the foxhole with us. We can show justice and mercy by standing by someone’s side, literally or figuratively, in our words and in our actions, in our thoughts and in our prayers. We can remind someone that they are not alone.

In truth, we are never alone; for Jesus promised that He would send His Holy Spirit to accompany us. Held securely in the palm of God’s hand, we can trust that this Spirit will provide for us and protect us. Whether we’re in the thick of battle or experiencing a temporary cease-fire, we believe that the war is over and that our victory has been won.

For Jesus stretched out his own arms of love on the hard wood of the cross so that everyone might come within the reach of his saving embrace. As our own good Samaritan and a faithful Jew, Jesus will carry us to the inn, where God has many rooms. He has paid the price of our salvation with his own sacrificial love. We have inherited eternal life through Him.

Until then, as St. Paul wrote in his letter to the Colossians, “May you be made strong with all the strength that comes from his glorious power, and may you be prepared to endure everything with patience, while joyfully giving thanks to the Father, who has enabled you to share in the inheritance of the saints in the light. God has rescued us from the power of darkness and transferred us into the kingdom of his beloved Son, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.”

 Through Jesus we can also fight for justice, show mercy, and walk humbly with our God. We too can be foxhole companions. Amen.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Waiting

June 1, 2025        7th Sunday of Easter    The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling
Revelation 22:12-14,16-17,20-21
 

Waiting for what, I keep asking myself? For Peace? Understanding? Truth? For change?

Waiting for Godot? God? Someone or something else? For Israel and Palestine to live in peace. For Russia and Ukraine to reconcile and rebuild. For love to overcome hate once and for all?

There are benefits in waiting, they tell me. Learning patience. Trusting that answers will come. Hoping that something better is in store?

 I wonder.

When is it time to move on, or just wait? How do we know? Who and/or what will guide us? Does it take pressure…..Political? Personal? Medical? Legal? Internal….Eternal?

Jesus said there would be signs. False prophets. Nations rising against nations. The destruction of cities and changes in the climate. Fig trees will die, smoke will fill the air, and “the sun will be darkened, and the moon will not give its light, and the stars will be falling from heaven. And the powers in the heavens will be shaken.” (Mark 13:24-25) There will be great suffering!

So Jesus ascended, leaving us comfortless; and yet He promised. The Force would be with us! The Power of God’s Holy Spirit would arrive. Like a personal breath of fresh air, mouth to mouth resuscitation, it would bring us back to life! And it would be epic! Not just a personal gift but a communal one too. This Power would be disturbing our crowds. Not in violent, destructive ways. Not by throwing bombs or molotov cocktails. Not terrorizing and weaponizing anyone. But like waves of goodness and peace that wash over us, cleansing us, healing us, renewing us, this Force would be with us. This Holy Spirit fire would create new life, a burning flame of eternal love. There would be people speaking in tongues, in various languages from all around the globe, from all the peoples of the earth, and we would understand each other in new ways. Bring it! I say in desperation.

Enough. Maintenance. Virtue signaling. Speaking to chambers that echo with the same old, same old. I’m tired of it all, which has nothing to do with my age and location. My privileges. My family. My friends. Even my enemies. Enough.

I’m done. But where to go? And why? And for what? How long must we wait before we go on living?

“Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden. And I will give you rest.” (Matthew 11:28)

 Bring it, I say to God. I’m waiting.

Revelation 22:12-14,16-17,20-21

At the end of the visions I, John, heard these words: 

"See, I am coming soon; my reward is with me, to repay according to everyone's work. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the first and the last, the beginning and the end."

Blessed are those who wash their robes, so that they will have the right to the tree of life and may enter the city by the gates.

"It is I, Jesus, who sent my angel to you with this testimony for the churches. I am the root and the descendant of David, the bright morning star."

The Spirit and the bride say, "Come."

And let everyone who hears say, "Come."

And let everyone who is thirsty come.

Let anyone who wishes take the water of life as a gift.

The one who testifies to these things says, "Surely I am coming soon."

 Amen. Come, Lord Jesus!

 The grace of the Lord Jesus be with all the saints. Amen.